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“Yes, and not one of them has any doubt that Sixth Kingdom is in good hands,” I point out.

“Yet, I fear that the shift in power you are enacting in the kingdom will worry some of these noble families, and we can’t afford any dissent,” Uwen puts in.

I stop, whirling on the three of them at the second floor landing, my guards halting a pace behind. “Look around you. Highbell can afford anything.” My tone is harsh, my eyes cold. “If there is any dissent in the future, I will handle it, but for now, continue setting up meetings. I want to see a member of every single strong-standing noble family in Highbell.”

They look amongst themselves, burning with the question that they don’t dare ask. They know better than to directly inquire about what my intentions are with gaining personal support from the nobles.

But they know. They at least suspect that I plan to make these changes permanent. To make the people answer to me instead of him.

My husband might have the golden touch and the silver tongue, but I have the blood and the history. It was my ancestors who rule

d this kingdom.

As a Colier, I know everything there is to know about this land and the families of Highbell, and I know how to manipulate their loyalty.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Uwen replies with a bow.

I look down at them coolly. “Now, unless you plan on following me to my personal chambers, I think we’re finished today. I’m tired, and you still have to answer those inquiries I drew up. I’m waiting for those findings.”

Wilcox scratches the whiskers on his chin. “About that, Your Majesty. The questions about our forces...”

“I want them all answered, Wilcox.”

“Yes, but...” He hesitates, sharing another look with the other two, but they leave him high and dry. Uwen suddenly finds the floor fascinating, while Barthal is busy fixing his lapel.

Wilcox sighs and looks back at me. “Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but those inquiries...it sounds as if you plan to prepare for war.”

I flash him a benign smile and take a decisive step down. One stair, then two, until I’m directly in front of him. He freezes, blue eyes wide as I reach up to straighten the Sixth Kingdom insignia on his tunic, the metal brooch pinned through the middle of his collar. I close my fingers around it tight enough that he flinches.

I suppress a smile while I move to tighten his collar, fix the position of the gleaming gold bell at his throat. “Do you recall what King Colier, my late father, said?”

Wilcox swallows audibly, his throat moving with a nervous bob as he shakes his head.

“He said, ‘Foolish is the king who does not prepare for attack. From outsiders, as well as those within.’” I drop my hand, eyes lifting up to his face that’s gone pale. “Don’t you agree that’s good advice, Wilcox?”

A shaky, nervous breath comes from between thin lips, but he manages a nod. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Casting a casual glance at the other two, I note their shock—the sweat on Uwen’s bushy brows, the paled face of Barthal.

One carefully worded statement, and I’ve issued my warnings. I consider every ally as a potential threat, and I won’t hesitate to end anyone who goes against me.

“I expect an answer to my inquiries soon. That will be all, gentlemen,” I say in clear dismissal, enjoying every part of their discomfort as my guards follow me, moving past my dumbstruck advisors.

I turn at the second floor railing, hand curving over the banister as I look down on them. “Oh, and all hawks have been suspended from use as of today. No messages will be allowed in or out without my direct approval.”

The sight of their slack-jawed faces nearly makes me smile. I turn, satisfaction brewing through me as I stride for my chambers, knowing that every day I spend, every maneuver I make, I’m that much closer to tightening my grasp over Highbell.

By the time Tyndall tries to return to Sixth Kingdom, it will be far too late.

Chapter 19

AUREN

I’m sick.

I don’t know if I caught something from the horde of soldiers or if it’s the stress or if it’s simply that my body just can’t take being out in the endless cold anymore. Whatever it is, my brain feels like it’s ready to thump out of my skull.

I haven’t felt sick like this in a long time, but it brings back bad memories of Zakir. I was sick a lot back then—all the children were.


Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy